


Makeshift Forever

by Oaklin



Series: Forever Everything [8]
Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: 'borrowing', Kayfabe Compliant, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Swearing, Thievery, about as close to shameless fluff as you'll ever get from me, erotic eating if you turn your head and squint, obligatory Kevin Steen warning, or as it is known to most people, stealth angst, the fluffy-ist thing I've written so far, unconventional cooking methods
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-30
Updated: 2016-07-30
Packaged: 2018-07-27 14:46:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7622791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oaklin/pseuds/Oaklin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello hello!</p>
<p>So this is basically an apology for the next few oneshots that come after this one. Things get a little unfriendly for a while. Then they get friendly-ish again. Then they get- well, you know what happens. This is all a foregone conclusion, but hey, I like me some self inflicted pain.</p>
<p>It's not really tooth rotting or anything, just my humble attempt at expanding my range with these two. I'm working on a fic that takes place outside this series and I need to flex my romance skills- which I've found severely lacking when it comes to these two, so I seek to remedy that. </p>
<p>There may be more floofy in between bits in the future where I can slip them in, before it gets too jarring (and it WILL get really jarring eventually, but hopefully by that time I'll have gotten a feel for how Sami and Kevin function in cutesy situations)</p>
    </blockquote>





	Makeshift Forever

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SashaGuseva](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SashaGuseva/gifts).



> Hello hello!
> 
> So this is basically an apology for the next few oneshots that come after this one. Things get a little unfriendly for a while. Then they get friendly-ish again. Then they get- well, you know what happens. This is all a foregone conclusion, but hey, I like me some self inflicted pain.
> 
> It's not really tooth rotting or anything, just my humble attempt at expanding my range with these two. I'm working on a fic that takes place outside this series and I need to flex my romance skills- which I've found severely lacking when it comes to these two, so I seek to remedy that. 
> 
> There may be more floofy in between bits in the future where I can slip them in, before it gets too jarring (and it WILL get really jarring eventually, but hopefully by that time I'll have gotten a feel for how Sami and Kevin function in cutesy situations)

Kevin ran his thumb across the crinkled bag in his hands, biting his lip and trying to make out Sami’s messy handwriting. The words were scrawled across the back of the takeout bag, mashed together and almost illegible.

Sighing, Kevin strode forward, scanning the isles in the dinky gas station, looking for a reasonable proximity of what he vaguely remembered Sami had wanted. Picking up a tiny (too small for the damn price jesus christ) package of flour, Kevin squinted down at the list and let out an irritated huff.

“Why am I even doing this? I don’t give a shit about Franky.” Kevin grumbled, ignoring the way the sleepy clerk jerked up at the sound of his voice, peering warily at Kevin in the dim light.

Rolling his shoulders, Kevin tucks the flour under his arm and walks down the isle, picking up things as he goes (why did they need oatmeal? Franky’s favorite cookies are peanut butter-chocolate chip) occasionally making trips back to the checkout counter to deposit an armload. The clerk watches him in puzzled anxiety and Kevin wonders briefly if he should try and reassure the man, but dismisses the idea almost immediately.

Walking back up to the counter one last time, slapping down a small jar of peanut butter and a bag of chocolate chips and pulling out his wallet, Kevin observes the cashier staring at him out of the corner of his eye. Getting slightly annoyed (what the fuck is with them and convenience stores, are he and Sami cursed or something?) Kevin indicates the items on the counter with an index finger.

“You gonna ring me up or what?” Kevin bit out, plastering on his best nice-guy smile, trying to hold in the aggression for a moment.

Kevin is unsure how well he does, given the way the cashier jerks away as if slapped, before staring at him with wide, terrified eyes for a long moment.

Kevin wonders briefly if he should have leaned closer to the clerk (Sami did that when he was being friendly, leaned into whoever’s space and smiled brightly)

Though anytime Kevin leaned into some ones space it usually wasn’t for friendly reasons. Unless he was leaning into **Sami's** space which-

- _still isn't really for ‘friendly’ reasons and you know it_ -

Clearing his throat, Kevin leaned away from the counter instead, dropping the smile and counting out the money, trying not to make eye contact. Eddy had mentioned that Kevin had a tendency to ‘stalk people with his eyes’ whatever the hell that meant-

- _well if everyone would stop acting like helpless gazelles ready to be torn apart by lions maybe they wouldn’t be treated like **prey**_ -

Whatever the reason for the cashiers wariness, Kevin’s new strategy seemed to do the trick, as the man behind the counter quickly began scooping things up and scanning them, stuffing handfuls of items in thin plastic bags. Kevin distinctly saw him not scan at least three items before shoving them in a sack in his haste, but kept his mouth shut.

Free shit is free shit.

Kevin almost smiled again when he drew out a stack of coupons and the clerk made a sound in the back of his throat like he was dying. Placing them on the counter and moving to the side so as not to startle the man, Kevin began transferring some of the bags stacked on the counter to the floor as the cashier rapidly scanned the small squares of paper.

Kevin watched him closely this time, making sure he scanned all of the coupons and nodding in approval when he did. The clerk looked downright harried by this point and Kevin would have felt bad, but it wasn’t like the clerk was really having that bad of a time.

Kevin’s day had almost assuredly gone much worse, so the cashier could get over himself.

When the total came up, at least two dollars less than Kevin knew he owed, Kevin handed over the exact amount the clerk asked for anyway, not willing to correct the guy. A gas station cashiers inability to add was not Kevin’s problem.

Gathering up handfuls of flimsy plastic bags, Kevin jerked his head in goodbye to the cashier, flashing him a predatorial smile just to see the man flinch backwards like he’d been hit by a stiff forearm. Grinning in satisfaction, Kevin elbowed his way out of the store and headed down the street, swaying slightly as the awkward amount of bags he had weighed him down.

Letting the bags in one hand slide down to cradle in the bend of his elbow, Kevin used his now free hand to fish his cell out of the pocket of his shorts, curling his lip in annoyance at the awkward angle. Pulling the device free with a triumphant whoop, Kevin hit speed dial and waited impatiently, tucking the phone between his ear and shoulder so he could slide the bags back down his arm.

Shaking out his fingers, Kevin bit his lip and waited, groaning as the blood returned to his arm and the ringing blared in his ears. Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime of Kevin stomping along listening to the ringing, the only sound in the deserted Wednesday night streets, a voice came over the line.

Bright and cheerful and full of life as always.

“Hey Kevin!” Sami chirped, then started babbling like he tended to do, leaving Kevin behind to deal with the fierce tug of emotions that Sami saying his name (like that) always caused.

Clearing his throat, Kevin tried to focus on Sami’s voice, attempting to make out what the other wrestler was squawking about, letting the happy melody of Sami’s words pull him along as Kevin stalked down the street. Sami was saying something about ‘their friends’ but he was managing to say Kevin’s name an awful lot and every time Kevin had to listen to his name being uttered from those lips he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up with the urge to-

Fuck.

“Sami, where exactly are we going to bake these ‘surprise cookies’ at?” Kevin said, the words coming out softer than he had wanted, making him grimace, though Sami wasn’t there to appreciate the gesture. Kevin quickened his pace, wanting to get back to their rental, feeling off and out of place all of a sudden.

There was silence over the phone as Sami contemplated the question.

“Uh, that's actually a really good question.”

“It is.” Kevin nodded his head to no one in particular, raising his shoulder in slight panic as the motion almost made him drop the phone. Recovering, he carried on, rolling his eyes in exasperation at himself and everything else that had gone awry today. He had been looking forward to just relaxing on their night off. “This was supposed to be our day off, not ‘make cookies for fucking Franky’ day, goddamnit Sami.”

Kevin’s complaints were met with a mildly disdainful sniff, “Kevin, Franky is amazing and you should appreciate his efforts more-”

Inexplicable anger rolled through Kevin’s mind, making the world around him shine red briefly. “The fuck do I care about Franky anyway? He’s never baked me cookies, so I don’t give a shit-”

“You and him had that match though.”

Kevin staggered to a stop in the middle of the sidewalk, swaying a bit as flashes of blood and sweat and pain bubbled up from his subconscious. Pulling in a sharp breath through his nose, Kevin tried to steady himself, tired not to get lost in the visceral mental images he could feel wanting to drown him.

“I have no idea which match you are talking about Sami. Me and Franky have fought a couple of times so you are going to have to be more specific than that if you want-”

“No, you know, **the one**. The **one** with the-” Kevin scrunched his face up as some odd slapping sound filtered in over the line. Kevin grimaced even more when he pictured Sami sitting on the hood of their rental, smacking his fist into his palm like a deranged seal. As if that explained everything.

...it kind of did actually, to be fair.

Kevin started walking again, not sure if he liked that he and Sami could communicate non-verbally now.

- _what the fuck do you think wrestling **is** you dolt_ -

Exhaling harshly in exasperation, Kevin plodded along, listening to the annoyance in his own voice as the night rolled on silently around him, “Yeah okay, fine. Franky deserves cookies for that one.”

Kevin would swear until the day that he died that he could hear Sami’s brilliant smile through the phone. He listened to it for a moment, reveling in the clear almost bell-like sound ringing in his ears, making him slightly light-headed as he stomped down the dark streets.

“That still doesn’t solve our other problem. Where are we going to bake these cookies at Sami?” Kevin asked, slipping down a side alley.

There was a soft thumping noise from the other end, steady and rhythmic. Kevin tried not smile as he pictured Sami sitting on the hood of the car, kicking his legs out childishly, probably to the beat of one of those awful songs he liked to belt out in the car.

“Okay, so maybe I didn’t think this through very well but-”

“Sami there is a difference between not thinking something through and not planning at all.”

An indignant squawk blasted through the phone speakers, “Hey! I wrote you a grocery list!”

Kevin sidestepped around an overflowing dumpster, wrinkling his nose at the smell. At least it was cold enough that it wasn’t super rotten and maggoty yet. Ignoring the scuffling off to his side (goddamn cats) Kevin picked his way through the narrow alley.

“Yes, you did. Congratu-fucking-lations, you managed to use those hard earned elementary school skills to write something down on an old take-out bag.” Kevin rolled his eyes at the petulant sniff from the other end, “Now, how about you put your hard earned grown-up skills to the test and figure out how to bake cookies without and oven, hmm?”

Kevin mocking was met with somewhat aggravated silence and he couldn’t help the smirk that curled across his face. Fucking Franky wasn’t getting any goddamn cookies after all apparently, because-

“OH!”

Kevin almost pitched forward of his feet at the sudden, loud exclamation. Grinding his teeth, he rightened him self, glaring at no one in particular.

“Fuck Sami, warn a person will you? I’m stumbling around out here in the dark loaded down with crap that **you** wanted me to buy-”

“I have an idea!” shrieked Sami, enthusiasm bubbling in his voice and Kevin could hear him practically bouncing up and down on the hood of the car.

“Great.” Kevin muttered, more put off than the development warranted. Walking out into the night air (finally out of the alley) he turned, heading to their rental, parked just a few blocks away. Sami had insisted they stop at a lookout, mentioning he liked the view. Kevin’s protests, that you didn’t need a nice view to sleep, had fallen on deaf ears as Sami had hopped out of the car to admire the scenery

There was much shuffling on the other end, Kevin straining to figure out what Sami was doing. Feeling a slight sense of dread, Kevin spoke up, hoping to stave off too much insanity (why couldn’t they just have had a quiet night in the car)

- _doesn't have to quiet. could be **loud** and **bloody**  and  **delicious**_ -(NO)

“Sami we are not baking cookies on the engine.” Kevin snapped as a metallic sound reverberated in his ears.

Sami laughed softly. “Relax Kev, I would never suggest such a thing,” the little liar said, voice light with total innocence, “I need to leave the car for a minute. You almost here?”

Kevin heaved a sigh, “Yeah, I’m almost there. Try not to do anything too stupid please?”

Sami had hung up before Kevin had even finished speaking, making the heavyset man bite his lip on the urge to punch a hole in something. Maneuvering his cell back in his pocket, Kevin trudged along back toward the car, irritated beyond all reason and planning elaborate ways to make Franky suffer for all this inconvenience.

* * *

“Okay, this is the worst idea you have ever fucking had in your entire goddamn life Sami. Fuck.”

“It's not that bad.” Sami toddled over, vigorously stirring the contents of a bowl with a spatula, “Put it over there please.” he added gesturing with the spatula, flicking cookie dough onto Kevin’s face as he did so.

Biting his bottom lip, Kevin drug the tiny, round grill over to the spot Sami had indicated, slamming it down with perhaps more force than necessary. Backing out of the way as sparks flew up in his face, Kevin grumbled irritably. Brushing embers off his arms, he waved a hand to dissipate the smoke coming off the tiny bbq. Rolling his neck, he looked up, wiping the dough off his nose and licking his finger.

“Okay,” Kevin said grudgingly, “That actually doesn't taste like absolute dogshit.”

Sami beamed at him brightly “Thank you!” he looked down at the bowl in his hands “-they are a little, uh, unconventional I guess.”

Kevin snorted, coming over and sticking a finger in the bowl. “You just MacGyvered cookie dough. Anyone ever tell you that you are insane?”

Sami smiled, bopping Kevin lightly with the spatula when he went in for more, “Yes and stop stealing. There won’t be any left for the actual cookies.”

- _good. fucking Franky doesn't **deserve** your time anyway_ -

Kevin coughed loudly as Sami bounced over to the crackling grill, crouching down dangerously close, knee almost touching the burning metal along the outside. Tossing down a thick piece of greased foil, Sami then slapped some of the cookie-mess onto the surface, poking at it with the spatula. Kevin watched him, head cocked and eyebrows raised.

“Won’t they turn out more like bread than cookies?” Kevin asked, strolling over to loom behind Sami.

Sami made a derisive noise in the back of his throat, “Cookies are kinda like bread, Kevin.”

Kevin opened his mouth, ready to loudly and at length explain the intricate differences between bread and cookies to the heathen who dares besmirch their name, but pauses as Sami starts humming softly into the quiet night air.

Kevin can’t really make out the song (Sami’s caterwauling should be illegal) but it makes him shut up none the less. Sami continues to hum as he prods the pseudo cookie, eventually turning it over with little difficulty, the humming becoming increasingly pleased sounding when he succeeds.

“They are more like pancakes than cookies.” Kevin mutters into the soft silence, feeling irrationally displeased when Sami stops his tone deaf humming to reply.

“Well, okay. Maybe. But it’s the thought that counts, right?” Sami asks, sounding uncertain for the first time since he’d asked Kevin to drag the grill back.

Kevin ran a hand through his hair, watching Sami slide the first ‘cookie’ off onto a separate piece of foil and scrape the next one out of the bowl onto the foil over the coals. Sighing in resignation, Kevin dropped down into a crouch, edging probably a little too far into Sami’s space and peering at the process over the slighter man’s shoulder.

“Yeah it is. Still not sure why we are going through this much trouble for Franky though. What exactly did he do that was so great that you felt the need to make him shitty cookies while crouched over a stolen bbq grill at three in the morning?” Kevin asked, genuinely curious now as he leans closer, observing the way Sami shivers out of the corner of his eye.

Sami glances back at him nervously, even as his body tilts backwards slightly, as if drawn to Kevin subconsciously. “Franky is just really nice you know? I figured since he was cool enough to hang out with me at that party last week-” Sami trailed off, looking back at the grill and away from Kevin.

Kevin really, really, _really_ didn’t want to talk about last week right now. Or ever. Leaning right up into Sami’s space, he slid his fingers along Sami’s arm until he could reach the foil, then snapped a scalding piece of the barbecued cookie off and drew it up to his mouth, blowing on it to cool it and ignoring the way it burned his fingers.

Sami gasped but stayed where he was, watching Kevin in something like awe, before going beet red and turning back to his task.

“Damn it Kevin, you could wait until they are done. You’re gonna burn your fingers off.” Sami mumbled, even as he broke off a piece of the already finished cookie, offering it over his shoulder.

Kevin leaned forward, licking the piece of cookie off Sami’s fingers. Stopping himself just in time, Kevin managed to prevent himself from snapping Sami’s fingers up into his mouth and reached around the slighter man instead-

- _aw come **on**_ -

-shoving the piece of the in-progress cookie he still had in his hand into Sami’s mouth. Pulling his fingers back before he can get lost in the sensation of Sami’s lips on his skin, Kevin leans almost all the way forward, watching Sami stagger a bit under Kevin’s weight.

Sami rightens himself, pushing back a bit then settling under Kevin, leaning his head back to brush their cheeks together as he swallows the cookie in his mouth and gives the cookie over the coals another poke.

“Just remind me to drag this grill back to those teenagers, before they wake up, yeah?” Sami says after a moment, probably just to break up the silence as they lean against each other, sharing warmth in the cold January night.

Kevin chuckles, headbutting Sami gently, “I don’t think they care about their hot dogs, Sami. At least not the literal ones. They seemed really busy when I swiped this thing,” he nudged the grill with his foot.

Sami reddened again, “Jesus. Thats not exactly the smartest thing to be doing outside at this time of year.”

Kevin snorted incredulously.

“Sami we are crouched over a stolen barbecue grill at three in the morning making cookie-bread-pancakes for one of our wrestling friends. Do you really want to start playing the practicality game?” Kevin said, resting his chin on Sami’s shoulder even as his knees started to loudly and emphatically protest the abuse.

“Borrowed.” Sami muttered, laying the second cookie on top of the first and dropping fresh dough on the foil.

“Besides,” Sami added, pressing back against Kevin and looking at him over his shoulder, their noses brushing together as they shifted to accommodate the movement, “How much more practical can you get than saving all the gas and motel expenses, like we are by camping out?”

Kevin thought about protesting that, but in all fairness it had been his idea to sleep in the car even though they had more than enough money for a motel.

- _sharing body heat is a **economical** way to stay warm in the winter you know_ -

“We should camp properly at some point. This summer maybe?” Kevin said thoughtfully, murmuring the words into the exposed skin above Sami’s collar bone, the flesh slightly cold against his lips.

Sami paused his tending of the fire, turning his head slightly to stare sideways at Kevin, gaze slightly puzzled. Kevin met his stare unblinkingly, waiting.

“Sure.” Sami said calculatingly, head tilting as he contemplated the thought, “Camping sounds fun.”

Sami looked back at the grill, “We should probably bring our own gear though.”

Kevin reached around Sami, grabbing a handful of sticks and tossing them into the little side door of the grill, snapping the latch back. He quietly watches Sami shift the foil around, away from the flame as the sticks weakly catch fire, the light casting odd shadows around them.

“Sure. I wonder if my parents still have my old tent.” Kevin said, tucking his chin into the curve of Sami’s neck, watching the dim illumination dance around them as the fire crackled sharply in the almost silent night air.

“We could always just get two sleeping bags and...” Sami swallowed hard, staring intently at the grill. “...I like being out in the open, you know? Tents are a little claustrophobic for me.” Sami said softly, carefully readjusting the foil as the sticks burn down.

“That works too.” Kevin replied, digging the fingers of one hand into the hard earth, attempting to ground himself as the lilt of Sami’s voice got quieter, like they were whispering secrets to each other instead of planning shitty camping trips.

“Just one condition though.” Kevin added as an after thought.

Sami turned slightly, blinking at him, “What is that?”

“You are not cooking.”

**Author's Note:**

> Can we all just appreciate that the first time I write fluff, it is from Kevin's point of view? I'm sorta proud of myself. That was without a doubt the floofiest thing I've ever written about these two angsty jackasses and it's from the point of view of the character I find most difficult to write. Though it maybe just seems more fluffy because Kevin is a lot calmer in this than he usually is (the reason for that is that this takes place like a week after Onward to Forever, so Kevin is still a little traumatized)
> 
> So this little interlude was brought to you by that one damn line in Onward to Forever, when Franky brings Kevin ice and Sami vows to do something awesome for Franky in return. I dunno why cookies were the first thing I thought of, you will have to ask can't-sleep-at-three-in-the-morning-Oaklin what that was all about. I do know where I got the idea of bbq cookies. And before you ask, no, it is not because I have made bbq cookie-bread-pancakes. That would be silly.
> 
> *cough*


End file.
